


Lasting

by Ladycat



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 02:42:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladycat/pseuds/Ladycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teyla likes to touch, they've discovered, a far cry from the distant reserve she normally maintains, a leader among fools who do not know her worth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lasting

Teyla's hand is warm and solid and strong. When she pushes there's a moment where Ronon wants to tense and say no, to hold himself solid and immovable because he is done with being pushed around, by anyone or anything.

And then he closes his eyes, because he will not roll them no matter how often Rodney does the same, and calls himself several choice names as he goes flat and still on his belly.

Teyla likes to touch, they've discovered, a far cry from the distant reserve she normally maintains, a leader among fools who do not know her worth. She settles herself on the back of his thigh, rocking warm and just a little wet as she runs her hands over his buttocks, up his back to dig into solid muscle that he forcibly relaxes for her. When Teyla wants things, stronger men than Ronon curl up and provide her with it.

Right now, Teyla _wants._

"Rodney," she calls, not removing her hands from their bracket around the back of Ronon's neck. "The condom, please, and quickly."

"Uh, Teyla, I'm not even -- " Teyla growls, tossing him a look over her naked shoulder, twisted enough that Ronon knows a flash of swollen breast can be seen, dusky and beautiful. " -- right," Rodney says, dazedly rummaging around in a drawer. "Well. That was, um, kind of painfully fast, yes."

His cock bobs pink and soft-looking, as comfortably welcoming as the rest of his body, as he approaches Teyla to kneel on the bed behind her. Ronon loses sight of him there, but sounds and smells tell him what he needs to know: the crackling sound of cellophane retreating, the scent of plastic and the odd gel that Rodney insists they use, the moan that Teyla makes when Rodney first nudges -- he always nudges -- slick and heavy against Teyla and Ronon both.

"Yes," she hisses, arching until her fingers dig deep into Ronon's skin. "Oh, that is much better." Breathing slowly, she begins a steady rock that confirms Ronon's thoughts. Right now they are little more than puppets for her, companions dearly beloved yes, but completely suborned to the demanding needs of her body.

Ronon is content with that. But then, as Rodney is likely to point out, he is getting a particularly punishing massage, not being used as a living dildo.

It surprises them all -- particularly Rodney -- that he has the most stamina. It is something he never discusses much, face lowering with thoughts that Ronon does not like. None of them do, but it is usually John who distracts Rodney with soft, yielding kisses that speak of understanding more than sex, of companionship and the kind of selfless giving that should not be a surprise.

It is, though. Everything about them in bed is a surprise to Ronon, his own actions as well as Teyla's. She has always been greedy about sex, demanding to the point of selfishness when she is fully caught up in the moment. None of them mind -- much -- though; there is always someone else ready and willing to play.

And she delights in watching.

The door whispers open, a heavy beat of Earth military boots a warning. Ronon twists as much as he is able, looking back to see Teyla serenely working herself between Rodney's trapped cock and Ronon's thigh, eyes closed, a bead of sweat trailing down one flushed cheek. He sees Rodney, eyes shut and already panting lightly, mouth pink and open as he gives what Teyla so ardently demands.

And he sees John, watching them all with dark, heavy eyes, body still enough that he could be a statue, frozen in space.

Teyla's gasp breaks the moment. "Oh, John, could you -- "

"I did warn you," he teases, voice oddly warm and mellow, like the drink he often sips when it is late and things are calm. _Bourbon_ it is called; Ronon doesn't like it. "I told you about my sister-in-law."

"She's a -- a crazy bitch," Rodney pants. "Teyla _isn't."_

Quite true, although Ronon knows John speaks less of the attempted infidelity so much as the attempt for his brother's wife to get the relief she needed so desperately.

"Well, yeah," John drawls and oh, he's naked, old and scarred, yes, but more beautiful for it, a man fully in his life, crawling onto the bed, caressing Rodney's legs and buttocks, kissing the freckles scattered over his shoulders, the hollow between his collarbone, before shifting to gild Teyla with yet more kisses. "You okay?" he asks, only a little breathless as he lets Teyla lean upon him, hand on her belly. "You're supported, right?"

She growls, but sullenly admits, "Yes. I did choose this position for a reason."

One Ronon well knows, for if it is John who is the most selfless, Rodney the longest-lasting and Teyla the most demanding, it is Ronon who is the most athletic, the riskiest, and most likely to catch them should they fall. Teyla braces against him because Ronon will not let her falter, will rise up as a living support should her trembling arms give way.

He'll also be rewarded for it later. Or at least he'd _better_ be.

John chuckles, kissing her for a long, wet moment, one that grows longer still as John shifts enough -- the man's hand is precariously close to Ronon's kidneys, but he'll stay silent for a little longer -- that he can kiss Rodney as well, full and lush kisses that are soul-stealing with their softness.

"If I could have all three of you," Teyla breathes.

She _does_ , of course, but Ronon knows that's not what she's referring to. "No," he rumbles, twisting just his neck and shoulders to glare at her. "We tried that. _No."_

Most adventurous, yes, but not unreasonably so. Besides, he'd been humiliatingly excited to feel his cock brush against Rodney's thicker, fatter one inside of Teyla's warmth.

"You worry too much," Teyla says, cross, but John is there, kissing and kissing and kissing her, hands bracketing her face as he shifts until he is straddling Ronon's back, cock against Ronon's ass, leaning down enough to gift small marks across her neck, her breasts, touching her with a gentleness that humbles Ronon.

"Come on," he coaxes her in between the wet sounds of his mouth on her. His fingers scratch against Ronon's leg as he finds her clit and begins to rub; it offers a connection, a spark of electricity run harmlessly to ground as all four of them touch and are touched. "C'mon, Teyla, no need to wait. You'll wanna watch Rodney fuck Ronon, right? You do, you love it the way Ronon bucks and writhes under him. And I'll eat you out, lick you slick and sweet, while you watch. You want that, huh? What else do you want, Teyla, tell me."

"After -- " her voice cracks, sharp and grating. "I want to watch Ronon fuck you, with Rodney -- Rodney -- "

"While he touches you where I am," John finishes. "Pushing in you, thick fingers rubbing in just the right ways, while you watch and come and watch some more."

Of all of them, his voice is the least melodic, the least pleasant to listen to, but when he speaks like this, guessing what each of them want and then offering it like a _gift,_ allowing that imperfect voice to roll with a cadence never heard beyond their doors, a sweetness that anyone else would claim to be a lie --

It's the sound of John's voice that sends Teyla over the edge, Rodney's swallowed squeaking as he's squeezed and milked, trying desperately not to come as she is, flooding sticky warmth over them all.

Ronon growls when the silence goes on a little too long. "Waiting to get fucked, here," he says.

"John, if she doesn't get off me soon," Rodney babbles, high pitched and frantic. John's there, of course, low and amused, pulling Teyla off them both, curling around her while he strokes her calm again, kissing her belly and loving her -- truly loving -- while Ronon hastily fingers himself just loose enough for Rodney's cock to slide in with a sigh the rest of them echo.

"Not too fast," Teyla says, drowsy and sated -- for now -- as John dips between her legs. "And perhaps you could move up a bit more? John should be able to -- ah! -- watch, as well."

She flicks John's forehead, amused at whatever he's just done, and Ronon grins into a moan as Rodney finds the right angle, the two of them settling into a steady, familiar rhythm that John matches effortlessly, with Teyla conductor, reclining on the bed like a queen, watching them all.

Closing his eyes, Ronon bargains with himself: if he lasts a full twenty minutes of Rodney's fucking, he'll ask Teyla if next time, _he_ can be the one to taste her.


End file.
